


Alone

by mistysinkat



Series: Rutherford-Pavus [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:52:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistysinkat/pseuds/mistysinkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dorian leaves Skyhold alone to investigate an encampment of venatori mages and gets himself caught, Cullen decides to take matters into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone

Cullen greedily scanned the words in the report Leliana handed him, brain soaking up the information as quickly as his eyes could take it in.

His face fell. Another failure. Another attempt to rescue Dorian had fallen flat before it had begun.

He couldn’t say he was surprised. The mage had set off on his own to track and observe the venatori – he’d left Cullen with only the briefest of explanations and no indication as to his destination.

> Cullen,
> 
> There’s no doubt you missed my presence as soon as you woke. I don’t blame you. I’d miss me, too, if I suddenly weren’t by my side.
> 
> But I’m sure you’re keen to hear the reason for my abrupt departure. I do apologize for sneaking away in the night, but I can’t use the Inquisition’s resources to fulfill my own selfish need to understand the venatori. I must know how far they’ve corrupted my fellow countrymen. I need to find a way to undo this damage.
> 
> So, I’m off. Don’t worry your pretty little head about me. I’ve found a lead to one of their main camps, and I intend to watch and learn only.
> 
> I’m interested in knowing more, but not at the expense of my own skin. I rather like it, you see.
> 
> Until I return, I remain ever…
> 
> Yours,
> 
> Dorian

It had been three weeks since Cullen had found that note on Dorian’s pillow. Cullen had harsh words for the guards who opened the gate for him, but he knew there was nothing they could have… or should have… done to stop the Tevinter mage. There was no reason at all for them to have detained Dorian, so they let him ride out into the cold.

Alone.

“Damn him and his blighted curiosity! I’m going to get him myself…”

Leliana grabbed his arm as he stomped toward the door, the report crumpled tightly in his fist.

“Cullen! Be reasonable. If you just wait until the Inquisitor returns, I’m sure she’ll…” Leliana began.

The commander spun on his heels to face the spymaster.

“The Inquisitor is still two weeks out! I cannot wait – I’ve waited too long already!” he growled, “And your people have been worthless.”

“They’ve at least located him. We know he’s alive,” Leliana reasoned with a cool, measured tone. She didn’t care to hear her people insulted, not when several had made the ultimate sacrifice to bring them what little information they had. “My people have done all they can to help him – you can tell their families that their recently-departed loved ones were useless.”

Cullen winced as his face softened, but his eyes were still iron.

“I am sorry, Leliana. I did not mean… I just… I have to go.”

“Your judgment has been compromised. You love him,” Leliana continued, noticing the way he flinched at the word “love.” She smiled gently as she took a careful step forward and cupped his cheek in her hand. She was not made of stone. She was aware of how deep his emotions ran when it came to Dorian. She knew Cullen was hurting, and that the hurt magnified each day the mage was gone.

She felt a similar hurt every time she thought of the Hero –  _her hero_  – wandering the world alone, tracking down a cure that very likely didn’t exist.

“You have a duty,” she continued, “Trust our people – they’re doing all that they can.”

“It’s not enough. I have to be the one…”

“You are the Commander of the Inquisition. All your knowledge, all your strategy – you are needed here.”

“Then I resign.”

Leliana hadn’t expected his response. She allowed her mouth to hang slack for the briefest of moments before she collected herself.

“You can’t mean that. Just be patient. They haven’t killed him yet for a reason. My spies will find that out.”

“The time for that is over. I’m going, and if that means I’m no longer an officer of the Inquisition… then so be it. I’ll leave that to the Inquisitor to decide.”

“Cullen! This is ludicrous! You are gambling the fate of the Inquisition – of all of Thedas. He is just one man…” Leliana called to the commander’s receding back.

Cullen paused for a moment.

“… and so am I. The Inquisition will survive without us, if it comes to that. I am not so sure I can survive without him, however.”

Leliana watched as he opened the door and disappeared into the dark hallway beyond.

——————————

“Fasta vass!” Dorian snarled as he hurled a fireball at the venatori mage. The flames engulfed the screeching man while Dorian took a moment to lean on his staff and rest. He surveyed his condition as the screaming stopped and the flames died down.

The altus was a mess. He’d managed to slip the bindings they’d held him in for the past several weeks and escape the crude barracks that had been his home, but getting out of the compound had proven more difficult. Weeks of malnutrition had taken its toll, but at least he’d managed to swipe some lyrium potions and a reasonably decent staff from the bodies of his guards. His magical prowess was, for the most part, intact.

His stamina, however, was not. He knew he needed to get away quickly and find somewhere – anywhere – to rest. His muscles twitched with exhaustion and burned more and more each time he raised his staff to fight off the venatori that had been following him as he made his escape.

He leaned against the stone wall that surrounded the venatori encampment. He’d been following it, hiding in crawlspaces and ducking into the cramped areas between buildings for the better part of the evening to avoid confronting his captors. He was ragged and filthy, dressed in the rags they’d given him to replace his usual robes.

They’d spat at him, saying he wasn’t worthy of the Tevinter insignia he wore embroidered into his cloak. They’d laughed as they rubbed dirt in his hair and wrapped him in the spoiled remnants of clothing he now wore. They’d sneered as they hinted they had some darker purpose for him, some way that he could still be useful to his country and those trying to bring back its former glory through Corypheus.

Something about Dorian becoming a vessel.

“Fuck that,” Dorian grunted as he willed himself to move forward. He knew it wouldn’t be long before more venatori would flock to his area, drawn to him by the death throes of the mage he’d just reduced to charcoal. He needed to hide.

“I  _need_  some fucking help!” he grumbled as, once again, he found himself face down in the dirt under one of the aging buildings.

He watched as a group of 4 or 5 venatori scuttled by his hiding place and heard their shouts as they discovered their comrade.

Soon, they would find him. He should have run after the kill, he knew that, but he was just so tired.

_Think, Dorian._

_Think._

_Help. I need help._

_There is none, you buffoon. You had to be all noble and go on this mission alone._

_Well, that line of thought is just really unproductive._

_Oh fine. You’re an idiot, but not incapable._

_I know, there has to be some way I can gain an advantage…_

The solution was so perfect, so obvious, that he jerked in surprise and his head struck wooden floor of the building over him when the answer came.

_Of course._

_Kaffas. I’m a necromancer._

————————————-

Cullen thought entering the venatori compound was far too easy. Only one guard stood at the gates, but his attention was elsewhere as he slid up next to the man and brought his life to an end with a quiet dagger sunk to the hilt between the ribs.

_Where is everyone?_

He could hear shouts and the sounds of running feet coming from further within. The whole place was in an uproar.

_It seems they’re making my job easier._

He bared his teeth in a feral grin. There would be no sanctuary for any venatori inside. No tonight. He’d left his mercy back at Skyhold. He would not skulk and hide. He was there for blood and for Dorian. He would have both.

Cullen sauntered through the gates, unsheathing his sword and pulling the shield from his back as he stalked forward, every bit the lion hunting his prey.

The venatori unfortunate enough to face him felt the power of his Smite and the bite of his steel as he worked his way methodically through the cluster of rickety wooden buildings. Each shack was just as empty as the last. There were no signs of Dorian, alive or dead.

Panic laced its way into Cullen’s mind.

_Where is he? What have they done with him? Maker, he can’t be…_

He shook his head, blond curls catching the moonlight as he refused to entertain the thought. Not yet. There was still another half of the compound to search through. Still more venatori who would have to pay.

Another door. But this time, the room behind it was not empty. There, discarded in the corner, Dorian’s staff. Crumpled next to it, his cloak, mottled with stains.

The rusty stains of dried blood.

Heart beat racing now, Cullen grabbed the man’s things.

_He’ll want these. When I find him. I’ll find him. I will find him. And he’ll crack some joke and smile and we’ll go home and we’ll be…_

_Happy._

_But first… he’ll want these._

Staff strapped to his back, the ex-Templar left the one-room shack and…

_Dorianthankthemakeryou’realive_

Nothing.

——————————–

“No! NO! NO! You can’t be here. This isn’t happening!”

But Dorian knew it was too late. He knew the lethality of the spells he’d flung at the man with the staff silhouetted in the moonlight. He knew that death had come instantly.

But when the man fell and the light shifted, Dorian could see. Surprised golden eyes, open and unbelieving. Face wearing a quizzical expression of relief. Scarred lips that had been stilled even as they’d begun to pull back in a smile.

_Cullen._

This… this was too horrible to bear. There was no taking it back. No apologies.

He was just gone.

A mournful wail ripped from his chest as Dorian fell to his knees in the dirt. He didn’t care who found him, not anymore. Not now that he…

_my lion_

… was dead.

Dorian crawled on his hands and knees towards the man…

_my amatus_

… he had loved, but had never told.

He gently rested the head full of golden ringlets in his lap and closed his…

_my everything_

… eyes as he heard a shuffling and a cry behind him.

“If I have to die, it will be here at your side,” Dorian murmured as he bent and placed a gentle kiss on Cullen’s already-cold brow. He heard the electric sizzle of a spell discharging from behind him and waited for the end.

“What are you waiting for? GET UP!” a familiar voice roared as Dorian felt the shock of a Templar’s smite wash around him.

_It couldn’t be._

But it was. He knew it was, and he knew why.

_Spirit Mark._

With dread, he turned and saw the ghostly image of his commander, still fighting, still protecting him.

Dorian had needed help, and now he’d gotten it.

“Listen, we both know this won’t last. Get up and move!” the spirit version of Cullen cried as he dispatched the venatori that had found them.

“I can’t leave you here… I can’t…”

“You can and you WILL. More are coming, Dorian,” Cullen’s voice dropped to a pleading whisper, “Please, after all this, you can’t give up. You can’t die on me now.”

Tears spilled over dark lashes as Dorian stood upright.

“Good, now get your staff.”

Numbly, Dorian did as he was told.

The spirit of Cullen stayed by his side as they fought their way out of the encampment. They were magnificent together, the ex-Templar and the mage. None of the beleaguered venatori that they met lived to tell the tale of that bloody night.

They ran together out into the night, beyond the gates and into the woods beyond. They stopped only when Cullen cried out in pain.

“Dor… Dorian. S-top.”

_Time’s up._

The words rang hollow in Dorian’s head.

_I have to tell him before…_

The spirit was flickering as the spell lost its grip. He was running out of time.

“Cullen, I have to tell you… ” the mage’s voice cracked.

“I know, Dorian,” the spirit image of Cullen smiled, haunting and bittersweet, “Don’t you think I know?”

“That obvious?” Dorian smirked through hot tears.

“It was. And you know that I…” Cullen grinned back sadly.

“I do. And you know that I will always…” Dorian said as he moved closer to the spirit of his love.

“As will I,” he returned.

The spirit was barely there now, just a pale shade of what the real man had been. Dorian reached for his hand, but felt his fingers brushing through so much cold air instead. A whimper escaped Dorian’s lips and he closed his eyes.

Cold air on his cheek and lips; that was how Cullen kissed him goodbye. That was all he could do. Dorian opened his eyes and looked into those beautiful golden eyes one last time.

“I  _always_  will,” the mage whispered.

The spirit had only enough time to smile and nod before his light went out, extinguished forever.

Only Dorian remained now, cold and choked with heartache in the darkness of the forest.

Only Dorian.

Alone.


End file.
